


to share warmth

by ninemoons42



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Huddling For Warmth, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Rogue One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9418130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: Chirrut spends a cold night.Fortunately he won't be alone for long.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kannibal (keio)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keio/gifts).



He measured the length of his small room with the careful shuffle of his step, and the echoes of his own breaths, and the tap of his cane on the tiles. Rough shreds of material riffling through his fingers as he reached the window set high in the northern wall –- the threadbare curtains that weren’t nearly enough to keep the stiff night-time breezes out.

He was born on Jedha and he was no stranger to the scorching hot hours of the day as they plodded on and on –- but that also meant that he was no stranger to the bitter cold of the nights. He’d spent too many nights starting out of his dreams, out of his sleep, to the insistent howling of the winds, that rattled the very stones in the streets, that scraped thin layers of dust against the walls, a slow and patient polishing, a slow and patient crumbling into dust.

He crossed slowly back in the direction of his cot, and as he settled down on the thin mattress he had to fight the urge to shiver –- but he had to grit his teeth and he had to chafe some hint of warmth into his arms, and he had to sigh, because he wasn’t exactly old yet and he wasn’t young any more, either, and the cold had always been a torment, even when he’d been little more than a child.

There was nothing for it but to search for another robe, and to sleep bundled up in those extra layers –- but his knees creaked a faint complaint as he got up again. He was going to have to do some extra training, come the morning.

And then there were footsteps moving in his direction. That familiar beloved heavy tread. Chirrut had to smile, and open his arms, to such an unexpected pleasure. “I hadn’t thought you would be back so soon,” he said, quietly, as soon as he could feel the warmth radiating from the man who’d come to his room.

“Things worked out,” was the laconic reply. The words seemed to rumble out of Baze’s chest, and push comfortingly into his own. 

“I hope you earned something, at the very least.”

Instead of answering, Baze stepped away –- and then there was material brushing against Chirrut’s knuckles, soft and thick, and closely quilted with looping lines of stitches.

“What is this,” he asked, and the cloth that brushed against him became a heavy and welcome warmth on his shoulders.

“I bought a coat.” He could hear the sounds of armor falling away, of Baze shuffling around the room.

Chirrut was quietly taken aback. “I –- you know as well as I do that I will have to give this to someone who needs it more, come the morning.”

“Of course I do. But that morning that you worry about is a few hours away yet. And right now, no one else is going to use that but the person I brought it to. That would be you.”

Slowly Chirrut put the coat on. It was fur-lined, and it fit him perfectly, and he wouldn’t get to keep it. He could not begrudge the need to give it away. Guardians of the Whills did not own much. They gave their time and their energy and their possessions to the pilgrims who came to them for advice, and to the beings who asked them for any help they could give.

Back to the bed, and to the steady furnace that was Baze, and Chirrut quietly laid his head on his companion’s shoulder. Gently took one of Baze’s hands in both of his own.

There was warmth, and sweetness, in the ready clasp of Baze’s hand. In the heat of his fingertips. In the soft rumble of Baze’s voice as he began to run through the prayers that the late hour called for.

In a few hours, he would need to part with the coat.

In a few days, in a few weeks, he would most likely need to part with Baze again, since Baze would need to keep doing the work that pulled him away and away.

But for now, he could try to be warm, and safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I am also on tumblr [@ninemoons42](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [to share warmth [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135667) by [theleanansidhe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleanansidhe/pseuds/theleanansidhe)




End file.
